A Thousand Words
by iconoclasticGentleman
Summary: They don't need words to tell their stories - and they don't need words to say "I love you." A series of glimpses into the lives of Arthur, Lovino and Angelique, all shorter than one thousand words. May later be bumped up to M rating.
1. Fight

**First publication of 2014, this is a series of oneshots starring the threesome of Arthur, Lovino, and Angelique. I thought, "Hey, I like EngSey. I like Engmano. And RomaSey sounds cool. Why not?" **

**I'm really proud of the ones I have so far. I hope you like them, too! **

**442 words**

* * *

FIGHT

Their first major fight is their last major fight, and it is vicious.

Angelique doesn't know how it started or even what it's about, really. All she remembers is that one minute Arthur and Lovino are making sarcastic comments and the next they're screaming at each other, and Angelique is trying desperately to calm them down.

Lovino shoves Arthur and the blond stumbles backwards, crashing into the dining table and sending his tea cup to the floor.

Angelique screeches and Arthur takes a step back, barefoot onto the broken china before rocketing forward and slugging Lovino in the face.

Lovino reels back, stunned while Arthur chokes back a sob and hisses something at him before storming past him up the stairs. Lovino spits out some blood onto the floor, onto the broken china and the puddle of tea and Arthur's own blood, and then stomps upstairs too and slams the door behind him.

The fight is over as quickly as it began.

Arthur walks painfully into his studio, crumples to the floor and cries.

Lovino kicks the wall of his room and yells and curses himself the world over.

And Angelique stays in the kitchen, cleaning up the pieces of the broken china and wondering if it will be that easy to pick up the pieces of her relationship.

* * *

It is.

Later that night, when the yells have ceased and the floor is clean once more, Angelique walks up the stairs into the second floor hallway. The house is dark, all dark except for the orange light glowing from the bottom of one door - Arthur's room.

She cracks the door open and there they are, curled on top of the covers together. Arthur's hands are in Lovino's shirt as Lovino whispers apologies to him and Arthur nods, murmuring words of his own, and they both look at her in tandem.

Angelique closes the door behind her, kneeling on the bed as both boys come to her and embrace her together. Wrapped in their comforting warmth, she closes her eyes and tries not to let any tears escape.

"I know you guys... I know _all of us_ have really bad tempers, and I know that this isn't gonna be perfect and we're gonna fight sometimes, but... I want this to work," she whispers the last part, lacing her fingers together in both of theirs and bringing their hands together, so all three are holding hands.

Arthur kisses her cheek, lanky arms wrapping around her and Lovino gracefully pulls them down to sprawl across the bed and when she falls asleep with her two boys around her, Angelique knows that this will work.


	2. Attractive

**Thinking I'll post one every day, as long as I write them. Also, blanket disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or any of these characters, just the way I put their stories together. **

**252 words**

* * *

ATTRACTIVE

Arthur doesn't realize how attractive he is.

It's not that he doesn't know they think he's attractive, because he knows they do. He sees it in the way Angelique smiles when she pushes him onto a bed or when Lovino's eyes flash and his Adam's apple bobs or when either of them moans during a moment of passion.

But some things are impossible to believe even when you can see them with your eyes.

On the worst of days, Arthur wants to simply send them away because he doesn't deserve them, because Lovino is all aristocratic old blood refinement and Angelique is an exotic head-turner and Arthur is just Arthur, Arthur with the awkward limbs and gruesome eyebrows and hair that won't stay flat. He wants to bury himself in his covers and never show his face again, to shave his eyebrows off and stay in his room for the rest of his life.

And on his good days, well, Arthur isn't far shy of that.

Both of them are honest with him. Lovino is more uncouth and straightforward with his words but only in intimate moments, where he can whisper breathlessly about how Arthur makes him feel and then express himself without words.

Angelique is more easygoing with her assurances, dropping one with a kiss or on her way out the door, but always meaning them.

Arthur doesn't see it - but with every compliment that Angelique gives, every look Lovino sends his way, he begins to believe a little more.


	3. Laugh

**443 words**

* * *

LAUGH

Lovino's laugh is loud and wild, a hyena's cackle in the dead of night when you're least expecting it. It comes at the most unexpected of times too, because Lovino tends to crack up at the strangest of things and never explain to anyone what he's laughing about.

When he does so, most of the time the others will roll their eyes and ignore him, carrying on with whatever they were doing. Even if Angelique peers at the computer screen or Arthur begins to pay attention to the conversation, neither of them will ever understand just what set Lovino off.

So they turn back to their actions, but they smile to themselves nonetheless, because Lovino's raucous laughter makes for perfect background noise.

* * *

Angelique's laughter is adorable, and both Arthur and Lovino would tell you that with a straight face. She giggles and chortles and tittles and makes all the synonyms of laughing come to life.

Her eyes crinkle at the corners and shine, brown eyes against smooth brown skin and she grins widely, teeth slightly uneven yet perfect, and whenever she laughs it's contagious and they have to laugh with her, because if Angelique laughs at something it's almost certainly something to laugh about.

If you asked Arthur or Lovino what their favorite aspects of their Angelique are, you'd get a range of answers from inappropriate to cavity-inducing, but one of their answers will always be "Her laugh."

* * *

To hear Arthur laugh, _really_ laugh, is rare, because more often than not he chuckles under his breath or snickers at something then dismisses it with a "Oh, it's nothing" when someone asks him what he was laughing at.

Angelique will bug him until he tells her and even then, usually she just rolls her eyes and strolls away because it's something she won't understand, an inside fandom reference or literature joke. Lovino will shrug like he accepts that answer and wait until Arthur tells him anyway, because _of course_ Arthur wants to share even if he pretends he doesn't.

But when he really laughs, it starts slowly; a smile leads to a string of chuckles which eventually leads to Arthur's sides bursting in laughter, tears forming at the corners of his green eyes and he doesn't stop until he's completely out of breath. To see Arthur laugh like that is to see Arthur with all his defenses down, with nothing but his true persona with all its faults shining through.

Angelique and Lovino are so lucky to be able to see that - and they know it.


	4. Jealousy

**Hey, guys? If you're reading this, mind throwing me a review for a bone? :3**

**429 words**

* * *

JEALOUSY

They get jealous. It's a typical human trait, being possessive of something that is yours, but their jealousy is intense and manifests itself in different ways and none of the three realize how deep it goes.

Angelique has double the reasons to be jealous, because both of her boys are attractive (no matter what they think) and she's just a country girl from the distant islands of Seychelles. She thinks she's pretty, but she doesn't think much of it.

Lovino is the one she really has to watch over, because he's constantly _oozing_ sex appeal and everyone notices. He swears like a sailor, acts like a punk and looks like Adonis and that's a bad boy mix that most girls can't resist.

So she clings to him everywhere, and although Lovino may blush and scowl and mutter under his breath, he lets her. She glares at anyone who even dares to throw a lascivious look his way and if a girl attempts to come up to him in a bar, Angelique will pull him into a kiss faster than you can say "possessive".

If a man comes up to him? Well, then Angelique will wait and later flounce up to him, ask him for his number in as shy a voice as she can, and put him on their calling list so he'll never stop getting calls from telemarketers.

Arthur is a different story.

He may not have the high cheekbones and tanned skin of their Italian, but by no means is Arthur ugly. Angelique is often sad when she thinks of Arthur's self-esteem, because she wishes she could do more to raise it, but that is a long journey that she fears she will always be on.

Arthur doesn't try to draw attention to himself, but he does. In his actions and his gestures, in the way his eyes light up and his words flow like water through a river and the laughs that escape him whether he wants them to or not; he'll say something and heads will turn no matter where they are.

Angelique is terribly possessive of Arthur. He's her best friend, has been since she moved from Seychelles to America, two awkward foreigners in a big city. "Just friends" turned into "friends with benefits" which eventually turned into "my boyfriend, Arthur" when she met Lovino.

She knows she couldn't live without him - can't live without either of them. She doesn't realize how strongly they feel the same.


	5. Meeting

**Sorry for not updating - I've been so busy with exams, I haven't gotten the chance to write and I don't want to deplete the little backup of chapters I have. **

**888 words**

* * *

MEETING

"Arthur," Angelique says, calling his attention from his canvas, "I want you to meet someone."

Arthur's hands are covered in paint and so are his clothes, for he had decided on more of a hands-on approach for this piece and he couldn't have cared less what he looked like until Angelique showed up. Angelique with her designer clothes and designer dreams, her amused brown eyes staring into him and delicate hands placed on hips.

His Angelique, yet not his at all; "best friends slash roommates with benefits" does not a committed relationship make.

Arthur glances at her, absently wiping paint on his shirt, then turns back to the canvas. "Does it have to be now, Angelique? If I leave I fear - "

"Yes, it has to be now, Arthur," Angelique rolls her eyes and he knows it. "He has to go pick up his brother and I want to get this over with."

Arthur stiffens - _he?!_ - and he knows Angelique sees it, knows by the resigned sigh in her words. "We'll be downstairs," she tells him, "'cause I know you don't like other people seeing your studio." Then she walks out, leaving the door open for him to follow.

Arthur doesn't move for a moment, staring without seeing at his canvas, once so full of life and potential and that now just looks a mess to him. He looks a mess, and yet he doesn't care as he stands and marches down the stairs.

His first thought is that Angelique had accidentally brought her boss to their flat, because all of her bosses are stuffy bastards. His next thought is _Fuck, he's hot._

Angelique chats with him casually, hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa at the kitchen table but he can see she's tense from the way her shoulders are tight and back. _He_ nods occasionally and helps carry the conversation in a smooth Italian accent that would charm anybody in hearing range, Arthur is sure of it.

She spots him. "Arthur, there you are. You didn't even change," she notes with a frown of disapproval.

The man turns to look over his shoulder and Arthur straightens, thinking that if he's going to meet... going to meet whoever the fuck this is, he'll meet him without any facade.

"Yes, because I'm going to put on a whole new outfit just because there's someone in my kitchen," he snarks as he walks over to lean against the counter behind Angelique.

There's comfort in the way she rolls her eyes at him, lips twitching in both anxiety and amusement. "It's our kitchen, dumbass. Anyway. This is Lovino."

Arthur meets Lovino's eyes and tries not to cower away like a shy kitten.

Hazel eyes drift down his figure lazily and Arthur wonders what he's thinking, crossing his arms unconsciously. The man exudes confidence, mixed with an arrogance that both puts Arthur off and draws him in closer. He supposes the act is supposed to do that.

"_Piacere di conoscerla_, Arthur," Lovino says and oh, that's why Italian is a romance language.

Arthur forces a nod. "A pleasure, Lovino."

Lovino smirks and Arthur is certain that the man knows what he is thinking, and he doesn't like it, doesn't like not having the upper hand when this is his flat. "So. How are you two acquainted?"

The moment Angelique opens her mouth, Arthur knows what she is going to say.

He doesn't even have to ask once he sees the way Lovino's gaze flickers to Angelique, waiting on what she is going to say like a dog waiting for someone to throw it a bone. He doesn't even have to ask once he sees the way Angelique twists around in her chair, hands tight on the back as she seeks out Arthur's gaze, tries to reassure it with her own.

"Well, Arthur, I've been seeing Lovino for a while now." And there it is.

"Oh." Arthur hears himself say more than anything, and the stricken expression on Angelique's face is distant to him now, floating in another world. "Well. Alright."

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Angelique asks urgently, and Arthur thinks he is very alright, he just needs to get some space and some air and maybe some rum.

Lovino eyes him curiously and Arthur wants to punch him in the face.

But he doesn't - instead, he nods. "Perfectly fine, Angelique. Now, if you don't mind, there's a painting I have to get back to..."

Angelique nods, her head jerking up and down and her eyes full of worry, and Arthur brushes past her and Lovino - her boyfriend - without a second of hesitation. He climbs the stairs while gripping the railing like it is the hand of a guardian, an older brother perhaps, who is comforting him after a nightmare.

But this is no nightmare - not even a dream.

Arthur closes the door to his studio and sits back down at his canvas, observing the painting. Then he drops his hand over the palette, smearing all the colors until they are a murky brown, and slashes the beautiful abstract canvas until it is nothing but brown, brown and destroyed and lifeless.


	6. Family

**517 words**

* * *

FAMILY

"My family would probably disown me if they found out about you guys," Arthur says, "although that would be if they hadn't already disowned me."

"You've already met Francis," Angelique says and Arthur scowls, "and he's the only family I have besides Grandfather."

Lovino looks at the table and hopes they won't expect him to answer, and of course he's wrong. "What?" He snaps at their expectant gazes.

Arthur rolls his eyes with a smirk. "So? What about your family?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Why not?" Angelique scoots forward on her chair, chin perched on her hand in interest and damn, Lovino can't resist her when she looks at him like that. Neither of them can. "Are they all insane? Are they really mean? Are they a troope of flying monkeys?"

"No, no and - what?" Lovino stops, caught off-guard as Angelique giggles at him and Arthur represses a laugh. He's confused for a moment before realizing her words and scowling. "Fuckin' hell. No, they're not. They're just - "

Lovino cuts himself off, lost in his thoughts for a precious moment.

His family is enthusiastic. They're loud, and rich, and everything that Lovino should have wanted. Everything that Lovino did want, he could have had.

It's not like he doesn't see them anymore. He picks Marcello up from school every once in a while and takes him out before bringing him home, and despite their busy lives he's still close with Feliciano. He could hop in his car and drive the little ways to their country house any day.

But then he thinks about hiding at the base of the stairs while listening to his own grandfather praise Feliciano. He thinks about hiding at that same spot, years later, as he listens to Romulus Vargas swear and rant about his financial woes and romantic woes and familial woes, goaded by an angry conversation and a bottle of wine.

And he decides he's okay with staying away from that house, since he can see Feliciano and Marcello in other places. He's not quite ready to go back there yet.

"Lovino?"

Lovino is brought out of his own head by Angelique, now leaning forward with some concern sparkling in her brown eyes. Hands are on his shoulders, Arthur's hands; the blond had known exactly what he was thinking about. Lovino wonders if Arthur has had the same kinds of experiences with his family, but then decides they must have been worse - he hasn't been disowned, after all.

Lovino waves a hand nonchalantly. "I'm fine, just thinkin'. Nah, I don't think you'd want to meet my Grandpa yet, but maybe my brothers."

"Alright," Angelique says, placing a kiss on his cheek as she gets up. Lovino lets his head fall back onto Arthur's hands. "What are your brothers like?"

Lovino meets Arthur's eyes and both men smirk, obviously thinking of their own brothers, estranged or not, and Lovino decides that he's got family right here.


	7. Angel

**This is the last abstract fic I have - after this, I'm using a prompt table. Thanks for reviewing, Yuna! **

**448 words**

* * *

ANGEL

Angelique holds them together.

She is the glue that keeps them from fragmenting, the one that soothes their arguments and comforts them after words are thrown and doors are slammed. Arthur and Lovino are by no means separate, of course - they have a relationship beyond even the eloquence of Arthur's words - but if not for Angelique, they would have crashed and burned a long time ago.

She is the emotional one - or rather, she is the one that lets her emotions shine through no matter how much she may try to hide them. Lovino and Arthur are both hardened, disillusioned by previous experiences and relationships, but Angelique is pure and honest and naive and they are damn well determined to keep her that way.

She introduced them, and she proposed this arrangement, the arrangement that has slowly grown into so much more. Angelique is the one who sat the two of them down, brows furrowed and mouth thin and eyes scared but determined and said, "Look, I like you a lot, Lovino. And there's no way in hell I can live without Arthur. Maybe we can... figure something out?"

And they did.

Nothing goes well when Angelique is upset, whether it's at one of them or the both of them. When she's angry with Arthur, the Englishman tends to make his best attempts to get back on her good side through little gestures, little hopeful smiles and quiet thoughtful words. If that doesn't work, he'll lock himself in his studio for a day and paint his heart out before going to her to apologize, armed with the momentary strength to let his walls down.

When she's angry with Lovino, well, he has a much harder time apologizing and has no patience. What he does have, though, is money and he'll shower her with little gifts until she cracks and they get the chance to talk out their differences.

Sometimes, though, Angelique will stand firm. That is when Lovino breaks, when he comes to her and begs and pleads and bows his head and waits for forgiveness.

This is not to say that Angelique is perfect. She has her flaws, all of them do; she is impatient and vain and often disregards others' feelings, and she doesn't pay attention when people are talking, and she can be vindictive and cruel when she wants to be. She is often at fault for their arguments and she takes the blame when she deserves it.

Their Angelique is not always an angel - but to Lovino and Arthur, two cynical men with pasts full of disappointment and heartbreak, she may as well be.


	8. Evidence

**First of the prompts. I have no idea how to feel about this - when I wrote it, it made sense in a weird way, but now I'm not so sure if this is even possible, or logistics, or what. Just know this is way way down the road in their relationship. Also, I saw Disney's Frozen today - fantastic movie! **

**839 words**

* * *

EVIDENCE

"Arthur, what the hell is this?" Angelique asks.

Lovino looks up from the book he is pretending to read, being careful not to shift too much because he knows Arthur is discreetly sketching him. His eyes fall on Angelique and he withholds a snicker.

Arthur, on the other hand, is currently preoccupied with shading in the shadow of Lovino's jaw. "What is it, dear?" He mumbles absently.

Lovino tries not to wince at the slam of Angelique's hand on the table. "This!"

Arthur's pencil scratches wildly across his sketchbook and Arthur yelps, making an attempt to erase it before having the common sense to look up at Angelique with wide eyes._ Oh, you are fucked_, Lovino thinks with a smirk because it's always fun when these two argue, but then he catches the way Angelique's eyes are glistening and the twitch of her lips and worry begins to well up in him.

"Oi, what's going on?" He asks but nobody answers him.

Arthur's eyes skitter down to the table and then grow as wide as dinner plates and he falters, expression quickly becoming horrified, and now Lovino is really worried.

"What the fuck is it?" He demands.

A loud screech answers him as Arthur pushes his chair back, mumbles something about going to bury himself in a hole, and abruptly disappears up the stairs.

Angelique looks up from whatever she is holding and Lovino's heart leaps into his throat and for a moment he thinks about strangling Arthur because Angelique is crying, there are tears streaming down her face and then he realizes with a jolt that they are happy tears, and a grin has spread across her face. She wipes her eyes, smearing mascara and eyeliner, and holds the thing - the paper - out to him with shaky hands.

Lovino has no idea what this could be but he understands as soon as he flips it over, and now he wants to cry too although he won't because that's a girly thing to do. His grin is a little too shaky, though, and Angelique clutches his hand to support herself as much as to support him.

For staring back at him on the paper, printed in plain black and white, are ads for deals on engagement rings.

* * *

"I'm never coming out of my studio again."

"You have to come out sometime, Arthur. How else are you going to sell all the art you create in there?"

"I'll... I'll call people up and have them come and look at it and then they'll buy it. Or I'll die of starvation and they'll line up in droves down the street to buy all of my works posthumously. Yeah, that's it."

Arthur is being overdramatic and they both know it, and Lovino can't help but sigh in exasperation. He understands why, though - certainly Arthur hadn't meant for them to discover that. Not yet.

He still can't believe it. The paper is tucked into his shirt pocket, tangible and readable and real, and he still can't believe it.

Angelique huffs, blowing her hair out of her face and crossing her arms. "Just let us in, Arthur. All we want to do is talk."

She wants to talk. Lovino's pretty sure he just wants to make out with Arthur, because he gets across his feelings a lot better without words and even if he used words, the only one he'd need is "Yes".

The door stays locked.

Eventually, after about five minutes of silence, Lovino has lost all patience. He reaches over, plucks two bobby pins that weren't doing their jobs out of Angelique's hair, snaps one, and begins to pick the lock.

It opens with a quiet, anticlimactic click and Lovino shoves his way in, surprising Arthur who is sitting on the window seat they've often spent lazy mornings together on, the three of them. It's almost a competition between him and Angelique to see who gets there first and Lovino wins, grabbing Arthur by the collar and kissing him with everything he's got.

All his conflicted emotions are in that one kiss, all the novels he'll never write about what Arthur is to him and all the somnets he'll never recite, all the compliments he'll never give and all the smiles, all the frowns, all the tears and all the laughs that come from his Arthur.

Lovino breaks away finally, breathing heavily and Angelique shoves him, pulling Arthur down into a kiss of her own. By the time they break apart Arthur is almost dying from lack of oxygen and he falls back onto the window seat, stunned.

Lovino glances down, then reaches for Angelique's hand. Her fingers curl into his and a smile breaks out on his face. Lovino can't hold it back, nor does he want to.

Angelique giggles at Arthur's dumbfounded, breathless expression.

"Yes."


	9. I'm Here

**And here's the angst. I'm sorry, because I don't know how to angst. **

**806 words**

* * *

I'M HERE

_Brrring!_

"So, I'd like to discuss - oh, Lord," Arthur sighs explosively and resists the urge to check his phone, because he already knows exactly who it is. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Oxenstierna, but would you mind if I - "

"Go ahead," Berwald Oxenstierna gives him a smile that could be construed as a grimace did Arthur not know better. "I know how th' wife can be."

Arthur doesn't correct him, taking a few steps away before reaching for his phone just as it rings again.

"What the hell is it, Angelique," he hisses into the receiver, snappish from the stress of trying to close a deal and also trying not to make a fool of himself. "It's the fifth time you've called - "

"Arthur, I need you to come pick me up, Lovino called and his grandfather's in the hospital - "

Arthur freezes.

_Lovino. Grandfather. Hospital._

"I'll be there in five," he says although it's impossible to get from the gallery to the flat in five, and hangs up and dashes back to Oxenstierna, heart pounding.

"I - ah, Mr. Oxenstierna, I'm sorry but there's been a family emergency - "

"Go," Oxenstierna says smoothly, obviously seeing Arthur's distressed expression. "I'll email you the information."

"Thank you!" Arthur calls back as he's sprinting out of the gallery, and he knocks someone over but he doesn't care, and as his heart pounds three words echo in his mind with it.

_Lovino. Grandfather. Hospital._

_Lovino._

* * *

"Oh, fuck me, we had to get the worst parking spot in the history of parking spots," Arthur swears as he turns the car off and yanks the key out. Angelique is already running.

He fumbles out of the car and sprints towards the hospital entrance. Angelique is far ahead of him, track and field in college making it a breeze for her while Arthur wheezes and pants and inwardly laments _I'm an artist not an athlete_ and then bursts into the hospital waiting room.

Eyes fall on him, recognizing his expression and a nurse reaches out to him but Arthur is already at the counter with Angelique, fighting to catch his breath.

"Can you - I'm looking for a Romulus Vargas," she pleads.

Arthur searches for her hand as he doubles over, panting.

The nurse sounds kind. "Are you a relative of his?" She asks as she looks his name up in the computer.

"W-well, no, but his grandson is our - my boyfriend," she says urgently and Arthur looks up just in time to see the nurse catch the slip.

She obviously doesn't know how to react but says haltingly," Romulus Vargas - Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, Room 413 - ma'am, wait - "

But Angelique is gone and Arthur can only race after her with a curse.

He wonders how she knows this hospital so well, that she knows exactly where she's going. He wonders how much he'll have to pay if he faints of overexertion in a hospital hallway. Then he wonders which way she turned, and then -

Then he sees them.

Feliciano is openly crying, his face buried in his fiance Monika's shirt as the German girl silently comforts him. Marcello is speaking with a nurse, looking the most serious Arthur's ever seen him. And Lovino -

Lovino is nowhere to be found.

Neither is Angelique, and Arthur's heart clenches as he stumbles towards Monika who now notices him. "Where - where'd they go?" He asks weakly, feeling more lost than ever.

Monika looks at him sadly and points into the hospital room. Arthur immediately goes in.

He's never met Romulus Vargas.

But oh, how he wishes he had met him before now, when the man is lying prone on a hospital bed, almost as pale as the sheets and looking... drained. Lifeless, a trait Arthur is certain does not belong to the Vargas family in any way.

Lovino is sitting at his grandfather's side. His face is obscured and one hand clutches his grandfather's as though he could pull the man out of unconsciousness and away from the edge at any moment.

Angelique supports him quietly, standing behind him. Every once in a while, Lovino's shoulders will shake.

Arthur finds it hard to breathe.

He walks over to Angelique and leans against her, hands resting on Lovino's shoulders beside Angelique's. She looks up and gently kisses his hair, a silent apology for which Arthur has no need, and whispers in his ear medical words of "ventricular arrhythmia" and "sudden cardiac arrest".

Lovino sobs.

And Arthur has never felt so helpless before, because all he can do is stand with Angelique, stand behind Lovino, and all they can do is be there.

_I'm here._

_We're here._


	10. Funeral

**More angst for you, this being the sequel to I'm Here. I've decided that I'll only be updating once or twice a week now, but I'll be steady, I promise! Thanks for reviewing, everyone, whether I can respond to you or not! **

**395 words**

* * *

FUNERAL

(today it's not raining, it should be raining i want it to rain god _damnit_)

Funerals are supposed to be sad, dreary affairs. They're supposed to be filled with crying people, and it's supposed to rain - even the damn heavens are supposed to open up and cry for your lost loved ones. That's how it goes.

Then why the hell is this cemetery as bright and cheery as the fucking Garden of Eden?

Lovino's grip is drawing blood, and he knows it by the sharp squeeze Angelique gives in return (as if to reprimand him, ha) and the wince that Arthur disguises (he's always been a pussy when it comes to pain). They'd taken his hands by force when they had arrived and ever since, Lovino had wanted to yank himself away and just disappear.

The priest is blessing the grave, and Lovino wants to take that holy water and throw it in the man's face right about now.

(holy? romulus vargas was no holy man)

He's done. People are lifting up the casket (the casket with my grandfather in it) and the priest is saying "May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace" (rest in peace you bastard) and the casket is being lowered into the grave and -

Lovino pulls his hands out of Angelique's and Arthur's roughly and turns away without a word. They are the only ones who notice, them and Feli and Monika (the couple that grandfather approved of, the brother that grandfather loved) and everyone else ignores him as he stalks away.

He's glad they don't come after him. (yeah he is)

They wouldn't understand. (but angelique is an orphan) (arthur is as good as dead to his family)

He's alone in his pain. (yeah, thats right)

(alone)

Arthur and Angelique watch him walk away, and Angelique blindly searches for Arthur's hand, clasping his hand deathly tight, the little bleeding crescent moons that Lovino's nails had formed in her palm matching up with the identical ones on Arthur's.

Angelique glances back at the newly filled grave just as the Catholics around her begin to chant the Lord's Prayer.

"I wish he knew he wasn't alone," she breathes.

(alone)


	11. Puppy Love

**Giving up on a strict updating schedule, because. You can be reassured that it will be at least once a week, almost definitely more. Now, on with the fluff! The Funeral storyline will be revisited. **

**503 words**

* * *

PUPPY LOVE

"Pleeeeaaaassseeee?"

"As much as I adore cats, Angelique, I can't stand them," Arthur says with a hint of exasperated amusement. He's obviously trying to resist Angelique's adorable face, held next to the equally adorable face of a brown long-haired cat.

"That didn't even make sense, Arthur!"

Lovino is rather okay with breaking their stalemate, smirking as he does so. He raises one hand. "I'm allergic to cats."

"Damn it!"

Lovino restrains his laughter as Angelique kisses the little cat goodbye and climbs to her feet, frolicking off back into the rows of animals at the shelter. He leans towards Arthur, watching her walk away. "Why did we come here again?"

Arthur sighs and Lovino has the suspicion he really does love cats. "I have no idea. She knows we don't have any room for a pet, and our lease strictly outlaws animals."

"We just can't resist her, can we?"

Lovino grins as Arthur shoots him a look detailing exactly how he feels about that. "No, we cannot." He and Lovino begin wandering the large aisles of the animal shelter, as Lovino tries not to look at any of the poor cats and dogs that they really cannot take home. Not until years from now, when his secret plans to move them out of that cramped apartment are born and come to fruition, will the trio have a place for an animal.

Until then, they'll just have to do with driving down here and watching Angelique coo over any and all kinds of animals, as she's doing right now.

"Oh, aren't you just the most precious little thing," Lovino hears as they round a corner and both look left. And there Angelique is, kneeling in her tiny blue sundress next to a kennel with a small dog, pawing at the wire as he noses her hand in happiness.

Angelique glances up to see them, a smile splitting her face upon seeing them just like the smile on her face upon seeing the dog. "Come here guys! Isn't he adorable?"

"You're adorable," Lovino hears Arthur mutter under his breath, and he can't help but agree even as he strolls forward to stand next to her. "I suppose he's cute."

He really is; the puppy can't be more than a year old and is all black and tan with a white underbelly and markings - the paper with his information labels him as a Shiba Inu.

Lovino smirks. "Hey Art, he's got your eyebrows."

Arthur leans closer as if to inspect the truth in that statement, then flushes and hits him. "Shut up!"

While Angelique can't resist her laughter, and Arthur goes off on her too in embarrassment as he kneels down next to her and the puppy, Lovino just smiles and watches the two of them absolutely fawn over this dog.

He's pretty sure the feeling blossoming in his chest isn't just puppy love.


	12. Gloves

**Sorry for the wait, I've been busy. More fluff, fluff and banter and stuff. That sounds awkward. **

**705 words**

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GLOVES

The TV hums with static as it turns on, screen lingering black for a moment before flashing into color. Angelique presses buttons on the remote with a frown, searching out the Weather Channel and eventually finding it.

"50 degrees? Wait, what's that in Celsius?"

Lovino, who is messing around on his phone, converts it. "10 degrees."

"_Ten_ degrees?"

Sometimes Angelique wishes she had never moved to America, simply because it's so cold sometimes. Of course, the pros outweighed the cons of that decision, but she still couldn't fathom it being so cold outside! Even in somewhere as far south as Virginia!

She shivers even though their house is warm. "Time to get out the winter coats, right Arthur?"

Arthur peers up at her in disbelief. "I'm from Bristol, love. This is sweater weather to me."

"Everything is sweater weather to you, Art," Lovino teases.

"Not true!"

Angelique ignores their banter, going to their coat closet in preparation for going out and pulling out the heaviest jacket she can find without going into the storage for winter gear. "Still... it sucks. And I always lose my gloves at work 'cause someone else takes them home, and my hands get so cold!"

"I could always embroider a pair for you, if you wished," Arthur says, as he continues his work on his embroidery hoop.

Angelique snorts. "You're so gay, Arthur."

"What?" Arthur asks in surprise while Lovino breaks out into laughter, and Angelique grins. "That was - you're terrible, Angelique," he accuses while Angelique laughs and comes back with her coat, plopping up on the couch next to him. Arthur sets his embroidery aside to flip her legs onto his lap and pull her closer.

"I'm dating you, aren't I?" He says in a low voice, entirely too serious for the situation as he pulls her in for a kiss. Angelique smiles and presses back just before Lovino interrupts.

"Uh, sorry to burst your bubble, Art, but you're dating me too," the Italian says, his peals of laughter still fading off.

"Don't ruin the moment," Arthur tells him, resting his forehead against Angelique's. The woman is stunned, as always, by the absolute adoration that blinks back at her in those green eyes - and the fact that it has always been and always will be for her. "Come on, we're all here for once," Arthur says quietly. "Do you really need to go out?"

"We're out of bread and milk," Angelique points out.

"It can wait."

"And tea."

"Mmn. Go."

Angelique laughs and peels off of him, amused as she cocks a hip and stands. "So now you love your tea more than you love me," she pretends to be offended, only amused more by the flippant way Arthur turns back to his embroidery.

"Tea. Go."

"Wow, you're such a bastard, Arthur," Lovino plays along with a grin. "Maybe Angelique shouldn't be dating you."

"Then I'd really be gay," Arthur comments and the others cannot resist their laughter. Angelique slips into her coat, shoves her hands into the pockets and swears.

"I don't have my gloves," she explains sheepishly at Lovino's curious look. The Italian stands up, stretching languidly in his pajama pants as he walks over to the closet.

He goes to his own coat and rummages in the pockets, but only pulls out one glove with a bemused expression, tossing it to Angelique as he searches for the other. "Huh, I could've sworn that I had both of them. Fuck," Lovino mumbles under his breath as his search is fruitless. "Well..."

"Now I have one glove," Angelique remarks.

Arthur calls over from his chair, "Mine should be in the pockets of my coat - "

He cuts himself off as Lovino does as such, waving one glove and only one glove in his sight. "Oh, well, hmm. Wonder how that happened."

Angelique stares at her two boys and laughs. "We're terrible," she says as she takes Arthur's glove from Lovino's hand and slips the mismatched pair on.

Neither of them quite fit - but the gloves will keep her hands warm and that's all that matters.

* * *

**Also, while I'm thinking about it - AnimeCon Milwaukee! I will be there on Saturday, on the slim slim slim chance that anybody who sees this will actually be there. :) I'm cosplaying (closet cosplaying, really, but whatevs) as fem!Jake from Homestuck. **


	13. Blackboard

**Ahh, I'm so sorry I haven't updated in forever! I haven't forgotten about this, I promise, and I have some prompts stacked up so I'll be sure to press forward with them. **

**This whole prompt is actually revolving around the phenomenon of ASMR - autonomous sensory meridian response! I'd look it up on Wikipedia 'cause I can't really link, but there is a whole community of ASMRtists on Youtube that devote themselves to this and I'm really interested in it, so this prompt immediately sparked. Look it up! :)**

**771 words**

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BLACKBOARD

It began in primary school, or at least that was when Arthur thought it had begun. He was a rather average student in most of his studies, as little Arthur couldn't care less about math compared to the shading on his sketches of trees and dinosaurs and dinosaurs eating trees.

His teachers all had blackboards in their rooms, dusty old things that were never truly black for all the chalk dust. It was used the most in math; his teacher, an excitable elderly lady with the sweetest voice ever, loved to scratch all over it in curly writing as she taught her class.

Arthur failed math.

Not because he disliked it - because he couldn't pay attention.

Whenever his teacher would talk and write on the blackboard, he always found himself zoning out. There was this tingling sensation that ran down his neck and spine and once or twice he had fallen asleep in class, losing himself to it, to the peace and relaxation he didn't have anywhere else.

His parents noticed the grades, moved schools, and the tingling sensation faded. Arthur forgot.

He rediscovered it in his teenage years, when instead of studying for math or English he was looking up techniques about painting or art history. He discovered Bob Ross - and while watching the afro-haired man gently ramble on about "happy little trees" as he mastered the art of landscapes, Arthur discovered inspiration as well as relaxation.

The tingles came back. Still localized in his head, spreading slowly down his back in a cascading wash of relaxation and pleasure, the feeling became more and more necessary for Arthur as more and more pressure was piled upon him. He watched the videos more and more. He began to go to bed so early he feared his parents thought he was actually watching porn late into the night.

Then came the incidents. Arthur was disowned, Arthur moved to America. Arthur forgot. Arthur met Angelique, and Arthur met Lovino.

And that brings us to today.

"Oh, just sit down," Lovino snaps in irritation as Arthur continues to pace around the bedroom. It's Angelique's, and usually they share the bed because it's the largest but right now, they're in there for other reasons. "She'll be fine."

"But what if she's not?" Arthur wheels around to face Lovino on the bed, eyes full of worry. "What if something's happened with the plane or her information or - "

"Arthur."

Arthur's words trail off at Lovino's harsh call, and he stops to look at Lovino. The Italian's face is creased with anger but when they meet eyes, it dissolves into nothing but caring exasperation, the kind Lovino is known for.

"Come here," the Italian beckons. Arthur obliges, slipping his shoes off before crawling onto the bed.

Lovino crushes him in an embrace and mumbles into his hair. "She'll be fine. She needed to go see her Grandfather and be back in Seychelles, you know it. She'll be back."

Eventually, Arthur accepts it, although with no small amount of worry. "I know. I just don't like all the things that could go wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong." Lovino slides down the bed until he is reclining against the pillows, and Arthur rests his head against Lovino's chest and listens to his heartbeat. His shirt is thin and Lovino is warm, and Arthur feels himself begin to relax.

Lovino's graceful fingers entangle themselves in Arthur's hair, working the imaginary tangles out of Arthur's superfine hair, and Lovino's voice falls to a mere whisper, a low smooth sound as he says, "You worry too much, Arthur. It'll be alright."

And it's the combination of all these things, the warmth and the whispers and just Lovino that triggers Arthur's tingles, stronger than anything before.

He tries not to moan with pleasure as they slip down his back, curling at the base of his spine and then racing back up, and his eyes slip closed before he realizes it. It's such a familiar, missed feeling, and it reminds him of peaceful days spent learning about art and math and other, recent days of dozing off with Angelique in his arms or now, with Lovino.

"Are you falling asleep on me, bastard?" Lovino whispers in his ear.

Arthur shakes his head no but he is, he's already gone with Lovino's amused chuckles in his ear and his graceful fingers in Arthur's hair and the strong, steady beat of his heart always there, always constant.


	14. Muse

**Once again, sorry for not updating. This is the sequel to Funeral, and it doesn't really make sense. Ah well. **

**923 words**

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MUSE

"Sit down," Arthur says.

Lovino does not. He stands at the door and looks around at all the half-completed paintings and sketches and wonders if Arthur is going to finish any of them, because his studio looks shitty with all these uncompleted works. And Lovino fits right in.

Arthur turns around on his stool, circles under his eyes and a frown on his face. "Sit down, Lovino."

"And if I don't want to?" Lovino feels like being angry. He always feels like being angry.

"I couldn't give less of a fuck. Sit."

For a moment Lovino feels like resisting, like walking out, but he can't. Under that emerald gaze, he physically can't make himself walk back out the door. He approaches and sits down.

"Good." Arthur is sitting where he usually sits when he works, with the easel and his canvas leaning against the wall. The window is open, filtering late spring sunlight into the room.

The painting that Arthur is working on, Lovino would dare to call it beautiful; it's a landscape of green rolling hills and a little wooden cottage in the distance, a panorama of a place Lovino has never seen and probably never will see in his life. He feels almost like an intruder as he stares at it, an intruder into something from one of Arthur's sacred memories.

Lovino watches Arthur silently as he prepares his palette of all dark colors, blacks and browns and midnight blues and smoky greys. He picks out a brush, and then he hands both of them to Lovino.

"Paint," he says.

Lovino almost laughs. "What?"

"I mean it. Paint, and on this canvas."

What the hell? Lovino's lost. Why would he paint over that beautiful picture that Arthur had made, why would he obscure it with his nonexistent talent? Feliciano was the painter. "You're an idiot."

Arthur grits his teeth. "You won't tell me how you're feeling, so paint me a goddamn picture! Do it, Lovino!"

And suddenly Lovino is angry, angrier than ever before - angry at Arthur for yelling and pressuring him and angry at Feliciano for being the talented one and angry at himself for just about everything, and angry at his grandfather for just about everything, and he is angry at that beautiful picture.

Nothing has the right to be that beautiful, not around Lovino.

He grabs the paintbrush, holds it in his hand like a knife, and stares at that idyllic little cottage on the hill.

"Let your anger guide you," Arthur says. His voice is quieter now. "Your muse will hold the brush."

"Fine," Lovino says, in the same tone that he would use to say "Fuck you", and then he smears some colors together and slashes the canvas. A swath of ugly darkness cleaves the painting in two and eclipses the bright afternoon sun.

He regrets it immediately, horror dawning on his face and in his heart. It was so beautiful and now it's so ugly, and Arthur had made it and in his anger Lovino had ruined it and _oh my god_

"Arthur I - "

"What are you hesitating for?" Arthur demands. Lovino looks up at him, and those green eyes are sharp. "Do it again. Erase the whole damn picture. Do it, Lovino."

"But - "

"It's nice, isn't it?" Arthur continues on, oblivious. "Destroying something as an emotional vent. I know how you feel Lovino, honestly I do. And I know how angry you are, at everything and everyone - and neither of us are very good with our words. So try my way."

Lovino stares at him, then stares at the painting - two bright landscapes separated by the ugly scar Lovino's paintbrush has created. At first he is delicate, brush barely touching the canvas as he sweeps down the outline of a tree, trying to mimic what he remembers of watching Feliciano paint.

But he is not Feliciano - and he knows it, his grandfather knew it, and that is what makes him scowl and wipe the other side of the canvas away into darkness and then all of it, until nothing is left of that beautiful summertime cottage but blacks and browns and blues.

"Now what the fuck do I do?" Lovino mutters.

He can't deny it - he feels better. Watching greens and yellow fade under his hand is therapeutic but he still doesn't really understand. It doesn't make him have any mindboggling realizations about his grief or his past or his family or his own shitty personality.

That is when he feels Arthur's hands on his shoulders.

"Whatever you'd like," he says. "Leave it this way. Paint over it. The future of the canvas is all up to you and where your muse leads you."

Lovino doesn't like the way Arthur sounds dangerously didactic and mystical. He sounds like he's trying too hard, but he's not - that's really just Arthur.

Lovino looks at the painting again. It's black and murky, but flecks of green and yellow still peek through, like the sun after a thunderstorm.

He thinks about whether Feliciano could fix this mess of a painting. He decides that no, his brother couldn't.

But he can.

He squirts a bit of red paint on the palette, red and white and orange and yellow, mixes them together and begins to paint again. Slow, long, careful strokes across the top of the canvas, creating a new sunrise.

Arthur smiles.


End file.
